


Bukhansan Tales: Side Works

by LadyMorgaine



Series: Bukhansan Tales [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-04-05 01:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14033601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMorgaine/pseuds/LadyMorgaine
Summary: A series of small drabbles connecting to the universe, elaborating on scenes left out of the main work.





	1. Arrival, Jin's POV

Jin heard the thunderous knocking on the wards in the middle of the night, a metaphysical thud-thud-thud that rocked him away in panic. There was a heavy, looming feel to the presence on the other side of the wards, and he was halfway out of the complex to the gate when the _shisa_ began growling. It was an unpleasant night too, warm and slightly wet from the precipitation earlier; as he neared the gate in the company of Iseul he had to squint through night and a foul wind to see who was on the other side.

 

It was with a start that he recognised the tall, slouching form on the other side. Uesugi-san wasn’t a frequent visitor, last appearing in his father’s day, but he looked like any other member of the breed: extremely tall, with broad shoulders and a face somewhere between human and crow, with a long drab robe covering him wetly from head to toe. In his arms though… ah, _that_ was the puzzle. It was a boy on the cusp of becoming a man, pale as snow with ink-black hair that straggled over his forehead. From the look of things, he was wrapped in a spare cloak, but the arm and legs that straggled beyond were luminous, glowing ever so faintly.

 

“Uesugi-san,” he said faintly as he bowed. “It’s a pleasure to see you. Will you come in?”

 

At his side, very softly, Iseul let out a basso, rolling growl.

 

The _tengu_ let out a cawing laugh at that. “No,” he said roughly. “I’m here to redeem the favour your late father owed me. Take this boy, take care of him. He’s walked worlds tonight.”

 

Jin blinked. It wasn’t a concept many believed in, but those in the know said there were countless worlds connected to each other on a thin chain, with slight differences to each. There had even been a woman that claimed to be from one of these worlds in his great-grandfather’s time, but to have it confirmed was slightly odd.

 

He bit his plump lower lip, but couldn’t argue. The tengu had the right of it, his family had a great debt, and if this was what he wanted in return…

 

He stretched his hands out through the wards and felt his skin prickle with something cool and alien, but held them steady as the tengu handed the young man over to him. He weighed less than an infant, abnormally light, as if he was only a puppet in the form of a human. Pulling him back _in_ required some work. The _tengu_ turned and disappeared in darkness as he eased the boy past the wards.

 

“What do you think, Iseul-nim?” he asked as he knelt for the _shisa_ ’s approval, which came soon enough after a sniff.

 

_I can’t make out what he is, but he’s been through some kind of trauma. He smells torn apart and put back together. I don’t think he’s a threat, not if the wards let him in. There is the mark of some blessing on him._

 

“Alright. Let’s try to get him healed then.”


	2. Chapter 17, The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened on the date that the maknae line set Namjoon and Jin up on the night that Jimin left for Okinawa with Taehyung's mother.

Kim Seokjin had never been at a restaurant with three Michelin stars in his life, but he loved the discreet elegance of it, the way that the lights were dim enough for intimacy but he could still see what was on his plate. The table was just right as well, located in a small alcove that guaranteed privacy, with a paper wall separating it from the main body of the restaurant. There was a Claerhout on the wall behind him, apparently genuine.

 

Namjoon looked genuinely good, mouthwatering even, having decided on a suit for tonight’s outing rather than traditional clothes or something more informal.

 

There was wine. A really good wine, even to his refined palate, although he had had a peek at the wine menu and he had winced for Namjoon’s card.

 

Everything was perfect.

 

Perfect, right?

 

Perfect.

 

Namjoon was doing his urbane chatting thing; the _haetae_ had picked up a wealth of conversational topics in his long life, and normally he loved listening to him speak. Normally Namjoon’s voice stroked something at the back of his neck, making him relax. He had had dreams about what that voice might be like in bed.

 

He just wasn’t sure why he was sitting here, feeling more ill at ease every passing minute, whilst the man of his literal dreams talked as if his life depended on it.

 

Jin wasn’t stupid. He was a people person, and he paid attention whilst people spoke. Kim Namjoon was _babbling_ , and for a moment he was so shocked at that that he clenched his napkin into a wrinkled bunched thing on his lap.

 

He watched and waited, smiling and murmuring back at the right places, just to see how far the _haetae_ would go, but when he saw a light stippling of sweat break out along his forehead he had had enough.

 

“Joonie,” he sighed. “Stop wittering on like that and tell me what’s wrong. You’re talking very prettily, but you’re not saying anything.”

 

The endearment struck his partner mute, leaving him with a vulnerable mouth for a moment, until he sighed and inhaled, sitting back to take a healthy sip of the deep red wine. “Jinnie,” he managed slowly. “I’m… not quite sure how to tell you this.”

 

Jin frowned, mind starting to run with possibilities. A bad day at the palace, some minor upset somewhere, another lover maybe? “Just say it,” he got out as he slowly stroked the linen napkin back into a smooth drape over his knees. “You know me, I’m a good listener.”

 

“Mhm, you are,” Namjoon said thoughtfully as his fingers toyed with his wine glass. “It’s Jimin-ah.”

 

Jin blinked. Whatever he had expected to hear, it hadn’t been that, and immediately a light dread started to settle in the pit of his stomach. The last few months had been difficult for the young man he considered his son at times. “What about him?” he managed to ask. “He’s on holiday with the family in Okinawa, right?” Beach, sun, days without Jungkook to sort out his head. As much as he loved the young dragon, Jimin desperately needed some time apart. “Is something wrong?”

 

Namjoon stared at him with a strange expression on his face; the _haetae_ was almost vibrating with something. “They’re not on holiday,” he finally got out. “Tae-yah and Soomi-yah are still at Bukhansan. Jimin-ah was the only one to go.”

 

“Excuse me, what?” Jin asked.

 

“The queen’s mother demanded his attendance upon her. They are probably on the way as we speak.” His lips pressed together. “There have been threats against Bukhansan's safety. She summoned him to make sure that they were not realised. The queen said something about a death-witness.”

 

Jin stared at him, not quite sure whether he was breathing. There was a distinct ringing in his ears. “Excuse me?” he got out through lips that didn’t quite want to function. “Did he agree to this?” He couldn’t see how, Jiminie was such a gentle soul. He hadn’t even taken him on the more troublesome outings to clients yet.

 

Namjoon was still staring at him. “No,” he finally said. “He doesn’t know.”

 

Jin couldn’t move, uneasily aware that if he twitched now he’d take the place down with him. “You’re making my son watch someone die against his will, so you could use him as some… what… some kind of supernatural soul courier service?” he got out, voice tight.

 

“Come on, Jinnie, he’s not actually yours…”

 

That had been precisely the wrong thing to say. “You don’t get to tell me that!” Jin yelled, so angry he didn’t care he was in public. “And you don’t get to use him like that! Jiminie is not a tool for you to use, no matter what he can do! He’s a person! Do you even know what he’s been through the last couple of months? And now, because he’s powerful, you just decide to get him involved in that shit-show?! He made his bows to us at Seollal! He’s my son!”

 

“The queen…”

 

“Screw her!” Jin screamed. “It’s not her call either! You go and get him right now! Right now!”

 

“I can’t. If they’re already on Nirai Kanai there’s no way I can get to them. Hell, if they’re on the path I can’t get to them. You know it’s blood that open that lock.”

 

“Is that why Tae-ah and Soomi stayed at home?” Jin managed to get out through frozen lips. “Tell me, how is it fair that Taehyung gets to stay behind, and Jimin has to go and deal with this?”

 

“Because,” Namjoon said quietly. “It’s blood that opens that lock. The queen can protect herself and Jimin is… is expendable. Taehyung … is vulnerable.”

 

Jin blinked before he slowly slid the napkin off his lap. “I hope that you enjoy your meal, Kim Namjoon-ssi,” he said icily, enjoying the other’s wince. “I won’t be having it with you.” Turning on his heel, he marched out and took a cab home before he lost his temper and killed someone.

 

That night, when Jimin stumbled into the apartment looking as if his soul had been destroyed, he was there to hold him and apologise, arms straining with the force of the boy’s broken sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. The Claerhout referred to is a painting by a South African painter called [Father Clraehout](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frans_Claerhout). In my research, when I looked up the Gaon there was a painting on the wall that reminded me of his style, though I'm not specifically sure it is actually one. 
>   2. You don't tell any parent their child is expendable. Just don't. I wrote this and even I want to smack Namjoon. 
>   3. Real talk though, much of what goes down here is not because Namjoon is necessarily a bad person, but because he wasn't given a choice as to what would happen. He simply doesn't have enough power to tell the queen 'no', and is having his own internal little breakdown. _Haetae_ are creatures that protect and serve justice, so this goes against his grain. 
>   4. The queen told Namjoon a half-truth about what was going to happen, accidentally closer to what happened than she thought. 
> 



	3. Chapter 16: The Queen's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see what prompted the queen to take Jimin to Nirai Kanai alone.

_You will bring him to me._

 

Areum listened to her mother’s words on the winds and tried not to taste despair on her tongue. _My Honoured Mother, he is not one of my court._

 

_He lives on your lands, at your sufferance. I do not care how you get him here, Areum, but it is of supreme importance that you do so._

_Why?_

 

Her mother’s silence worried her. Finally, like a sigh of stars, words came again. _You are aware that I visited your father a few days back. He mentioned the curse again._

 

Areum pinched her eyes shut. She had never met her father, but any man that would sacrifice his own children were a plague upon the world. She had escaped that fate only by the grace of being too old when the curse hit, and a girl-child to boot. _Did you sleep with him?_

 

_Do not be disrespectful, chit. It is what he said that caught my attention. You know he has his agents in this world; they are looking for the one that held the wards during that last attack on Bukhansan. We must remove his reason for looking._

Areum didn’t say anything, merely clasped the polished railing tighter.

 

_Do you wish him to try with Taehyung?_

The words slashed through her. Areum loved Taehyung deeply, though her position made her incapable of showing it very often. Still, she would burn the world before she let something happen to him. Jimin-ah might be a sweet child, and she’d regret it, but she’d move heaven and earth to keep her own safe.

 

The decision did not rest easily on her palate.

 

 _Areum,_ her mother said again. _Shed your weakness, my daughter. What does he count against your flesh and blood?_

 

Gods, she hated her mother so much, and herself, for what she was about to do to an innocent boy. It didn’t stop her from turning on her heel and summoning her nearest guard. “There has been a change of plans,” she said coldly. “The royal family will be staying here. Triple the guard, and tell the Court Sorceror he will not be needed tonight.”

 

 _Jimin-ah,_ her heart pled. _Forgive this old woman, please. You are at my mother’s uncertain mercies now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. Yes, the queen thought she was taking Jimin to Nirai Kanai to die. Yes, she would still have done it to save Taehyung. She might have felt bad, but to her the loss of Park Jimin is nothing next to the possible loss of Kim Taehyung. 
>   2. When he comes down from the cliff and not her mother, she’s not sure if she’s happy or angry. She is sad, because the woman that raised her had just died, even if they never had been close or had the best relationship. 
> 



	4. Chapter 19, Hobi's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I took this out because, whilst it fits into Chapter 19 chronologically, I didn't want to break the scene with this.

Kim Namjoon was the last person Jung Hoseok expected to walk into his dance studio. It was late at night, an unusual time for the _haetae_ to be out and about, but the expression on his face caused Hobi to swallow the last of his cup ramen and stand. “What is it? Is something wrong at court?”

 

Court didn’t mean Bukhansan, both of them knew that. Court had always and would always be code for the _gumiho_ that ruled it, the only woman he had ever loved, and the one that kicked him out when he got too loud in his appreciation. It still stung a bit eight years on, but the thought of her in danger ran through his veins like fire.

 

“It’s not her,” Namjoon explained tersely. “It’s Taehyung-ah and his little retinue. They’re in deep trouble.”

 

Hobi relaxed just fractionally. He had heard about the prince’s two new companions through the grapevine, about the brash _imugi_ and the shy _mudang_ , to say nothing of the very discreet betting on which one Taehyung would end up with. Sometimes he really hated the court. “The boys? What kind of trouble could they get into? They’re just boys, right?”

 

Namjoon’s eyebrows lifted slowly, dimples nowhere in sight. “Am I speaking to the _chollima_ that once tried to steal some of the peaches of immortality from the Chinese because he was hungry? Or the…”

 

“Fine, fine, hyung, I get your meaning,” Hobi said. “But your face looks like a thunderstorm. What’s going on?”

 

Namjoon sighed. “They walked the Blood Path to the Land of Crows.”

 

Hobi nearly choked on air, eyes widening. “What the hell?” he got out, voice choked. “How the hell did they manage it? What are you teaching those boys these days? How’d they even find the path? It’s been blocked off for nearly nine thousand years!”

 

“I didn’t teach them!” Namjoon shouted back. “Hobi… they used the Bone Scroll. It was under lock and key, some of my best wards… I’ve no idea how they got in and out, but we found their ritual site, and there’s no mistaking the pentagram. When Jin investigated, he found the scroll in Jimin’s room. Again, not a ripple in the wards.”

 

“But even so, there’s no way a trio of boys would have enough power, they’d have to slaughter countless spirits just for their essence…”

 

Namjoon pinched at the bridge of his nose. “It’s Jimin-ah.”

 

Hobi’s head tilted curiously. “What, the shy little _mudang?_ Jin-hyung’s apprentice?”

 

“Somehow he opened up a path using his own blood. Hobi, so much blood… and it worked. Witnesses reported a red samjok-o flying in the night sky.”

 

“But he’s a kid, how the hell does he get… did you try to follow?”

 

“Of course I tried to follow, do you think I’m an idiot?” Namjoon said raggedly. “I couldn’t even get the path to manifest, let alone travel on it. We all tried.” He swallowed. “The queen is in the car. She wanted me to ask for permission to come in so that she could ask you to help. You’re the fastest person we know, and the eclipse is fading quickly. There’s a hint still upon the air… it might be enough for a _chollima_ to follow.”

 

There was a ringing in his ears to accompany the stuttering of his heart. Areum was the strongest person he knew, and for her to humble herself, admit that he could do something she couldn’t, was _monumental._ He set the cup ramen aside with shaking hands and moved to the staircase leading to the roof, already shedding his clothes as he went.

 

It hurt that she thought he’d expect her to abase herself to buy his help. He didn’t want to see her like this.

 

The transition was smooth as always, and he galloped into the sky above Seoul, trying to outrun that pain. It didn’t work. Not even _chollima_ could out-run their own hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. Hobi has a big crush on Taehyung's mother, and has been courting her since ... well, for at least a century now. He was exiled for a ten-year breather about eight years ago, because he insulted an important visiting dignitary who was hitting on her. 
>   2. The only things faster than Jin's legendary chopstick skills is gossip, and on good days a _chollima_. 
> 



	5. Chapter 26: Jin's POV

Jin didn’t expect any visitors that late at night, and the frenzied knocking on his apartment door shook him roughly awake. He muttered a curse, rolled over and got out of bed to see what the emergency was, still halfway asleep.

 

He hadn’t expected a _dokkaebi_ to be standing there, casting eerie blue shadows in the hallway from the flames roiling around him. He definitely hadn’t expected one so powerful that he could practically taste the power pouring off him, and the fact that his wards hadn’t alerted him, hadn’t even pinged in the slightest said something about his control.

 

“Uh… yes?” he managed to get out.

 

The shorter figure stared up at him with night-dark eyes sheened with a barely-seen radiance, like a new moon hiding its power. “I need to know where Park Jimin is,” he said flatly in a scratchy voice. “It’s important.”

 

_Wait, what?_

 

Jin frowned, a little more awake. “Excuse me, but what business do you have with my apprentice? He hasn’t told me that he knows an individual like you.”

 

“He’s my bride.”

 

Jin’s knees almost gave in with that flat declaration. A goblin’s bride was a blessed, or cursed, individual, depending on how one looked at it, and Jiminie didn’t need any more complications in his life. He opened his mouth.

 

“…and he’s about to kill himself.” the _dokkaebi_ continued flatly. He held up his right hand, and with a crack of power a balloon appeared in it, sunshine-yellow and ringing with a ghost’s last power.

 

Jin’s eyes glazed as he looked at the balloon, trying to refute the words, but the balloon’s energies rang with Jimin’s voice, with a plea to be forgiven. “Jeju-do,” he managed to whisper out. “He’s on the island. Can you take us there?”

 

The _dokkaebi_ muttered a curse and disappeared without answering, taking only the balloon with him. Behind him, Jin’s knees finally gave in, and he collapsed in the doorway, praying harder than he ever had in his life for Jimin’s survival.


	6. Arc 2, Chapter 13: The Egg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The others discover the aftermath of Jimin's struggle with Madam Zhang, speculating on what happened and what to do.

The golden dome sat in the middle of the destroyed room, surrounded by corpses. Ironically, the nursery didn’t smell like an abbatoir. The dome shed a gentle scent, something between baby powder and the smell of green things growing. It was large enough to cover the cot totally, and so thick that it was difficult to see inside. Energy patterns moved over it in waves, occasionally forming a string of words. If one concentrated, it was possible to see a young man slumped over the cradle with a multitude of cuts sluggishly showing against his formal clothing. In his arms, hidden away, the merest nose of a _gumiho_ kit.

 

Yoongi stared at the barrier as he tried to think what to do. It had been more permeable earlier, and they had tried to crack it open to get Jiminie and Soomi out, but to no avail. Where it had been an egg before, it was a geode now.

 

“Someone explain this,” Areum- _yeosang_ said, voice still disciplined but quite clearly at the end of her rope.

 

“We were heading in and I wanted to look in on Joonie-hyung quickly, since he had been hurt and Jin-hyung and Jungkookie were healing him,” Taehyung murmured. “I felt uneasy, so I asked him to come here and keep an eye on Soomi. You know how much he loves her, _Eomeonim_. When I came to check on my way back, I found them like this, surrounded by the bodies.”

 

Jin clicked his tongue from the next room over, letting Madam Zhang’s thin wrist flop back onto her corpse. “Dead,” he said tiredly. “Not long enough for rigor mortis to set in yet, but it looks like something broke her back.”

 

“Jimin’s blood is on her fan,” Jungkook said, gingerly holding the broken weapon up. “And something else, I don’t quite know the smell.”

 

“Some kind of snake venom,” the queen muttered. “It smells like bitter flowers. Hers, I think. She should not have been anywhere near the nursery. But what about the shield?”

 

“Yoongi- _hyung_?” Jungkook asked hesitantly. “You can normally get through them…”

 

Yoongi clicked his tongue. “He’s on a dark path,” he said quietly. “I can hear his thoughts distantly, but they’re oddly echoing, as if they’re coming from a great distance. Regardless, Jungkookie, I can’t get through this. I tried, remember?”

 

“Is my daughter safe?” Areum- _yeosang_ asked, voice slightly cracked.

 

Jin returned from the other room, dusting his hands off. “She’s safer than any of us,” he said gently. “Jiminie’s with her. If even his soulmate can’t get through, then nothing else around here will, short of divine intercession. All we can do now is go on and start the rituals to get the banner transferred.”

 

All of them watched her sweep away, immediately encircled by guards, before they turned to Jin as one.

 

Jin looked at them, grimaced and rubbed at his face, allowing his weariness to show. "It's not a shield," he said. "It's a time-field. For all our hours that pass, seconds pass inside the field. That's why you can't hear him well, Yoongi-yah, and why none of us can get in. if I had to speculate, it was sheer instinct. He knew he was fighting a losing battle against the venom, and he's not a healer."

 

Taehyung gritted his teeth hard enough for his jaw to flex. "It's time we called in some reinforcements." He paused. "It's past time Hobi- _hyung_ returned to the fold."


	7. Arc 2 Chapter 15, Yoongi's POV

Days passed at the Bukhansan court, with everyone deep in shock. Though Madam Zhang had clearly attempted to murder the queen’s daughter, or kidnap her, her position in life had necessitated a funeral which her husband had insisted on very strenuously and very loudly. They would not ignite the gate again, and so they held a quiet funeral for her.

 

The tension wasn’t just high in the court because of that; in a very public show of his new power, the _Gumiho_ Prince of Bukhansan had exercised his right to a private bodyguard, and had insisted that it be the _chollima_ , Jung Hoseok, in defiance of his mother’s exile order.

 

The _haetae_ had not recovered from the blow given when the wards around the banner had been deliberately torn apart, with the Chinese priest’s blood as a catalyst. Even now, especially now, he kept to the prince’s suite in the palace, not only because it was warmer than his own rooms, but because it was close to the destroyed nursery where the spell still ran. The others, refusing to leave, had been camping out with him, and countless rituals have been performed to try and break the spell.

 

Nothing worked. It held firm.

 

Yoongi, who had his own speculations on what was going on, could not sit with them on the night of the twenty-first, choosing instead to stare out the window towards the moon rising. He didn’t even remember his brother’s name any longer, but he still loved looking at him, and he knew… he _knew_ it was coming towards the end. Jimin’s thoughts were few and far between now as the poison racked him body and soul.

 

He was dying, and Yoongi didn’t have the heart to tell them.

 

It started with a loud, angry wail, the ruthless scream of a baby that wanted attention, and wanted it _now_. The group moved perhaps the fastest he had ever seen them, and piled into the nursery. They were in time to see the last of the dome wisp away, to see the cradle attendants snatch an angry Soomi away just in case.

 

They were in time to see Jimin roll his eyes towards them before he breathed out for the last time. Before their eyes, his body turned to ash, sifting and sifting. In the courtyard below, the people screamed with fright at the moon-viewing party as the moon that should have been wonderfully full and vivid gained a blood-red sheen.

 

A roar curled out Taehyung’s throat, shaking the ground of Bukhansan, angry and desolated like a beast losing his heart. Jungkook was wrapped around him, but looked murderously angry. Jin… Jin looked like a statue deprived of life, as if something vital in him had crashed. He turned to the window to look at his bleeding brother, tinted red in honour of Jimin’s death even though it’d mystify the astronomers later on, and breathed out.

 

He didn’t see Namjoon’s face. Seconds later, as the _haetae_ coughed, he wished he had. “He’s not dead,” Namjoon declared quietly, cutting through Tae’s sorrow and Jin’s stony retreat. “He’s not. Believe in him. Believe in my son.”

 

It shocked them to stillness, kept Jungkook from tearing outside to throw himself at the Chinese delegation in anger. It tore Yoongi around, aghast and angry and shocked at the thready words.

 

“How… how can you be sure, _hyung?_ ” Hoseok asked gingerly.

 

Namjoon slowly lifted his head to Yoongi and stared at him steadily. “What moon would shine like that if its sun did not shine on it?” he asked rhetorically.

 

In Yoongi’s heart a supernova of hope exploded as he noticed the silvery light slowly starting to sift off him, until he glowed like his brother in the sky.

 

 _Jagiya,_ something sighed in his mind, and he knew. 


	8. Arc 2 Chapter 14, Hobi's POV

Jung Hoseok was a patient man. He repeated that to himself every time he dealt with Areum.

 

“My queen,” he said as politely as he could, trying to resist the desire to tie her very long, very pretty hair into ratty crows’ nests. “I fully acknowledge that there are still some years left over on the exile order, but your son did the correct thing in asking me back to the court. You have already had one assassination. There is no need for two, especially if the assassin decides to go against a high-level target.”

 

Her eyebrows crept up aristocratically. “A priest from a noble lineage is dead, and Namjoon-ah nearly with him. You do not consider them high-value?”

 

_I am a patient man. I am a patient man. I am a…_

_No. You know what? I am not a patient man._

“They’re not you,” he said bluntly. “Or Tae-ah, or Soomi-yah. I could care less about a priest from some mountaintop outback somewhere. I care more about Namjoon- _hyung_ , but there are only three stars in my heavens.”

 

Areum groaned and buried her face in her hands, something she would never have done if they had not been alone in her office. “In the past eight years, have you learnt the meaning of ‘dial it down’ at all? In any fashion whatsoever?”

 

Hoseok’s lips pinched together. “The priest is dead. Your attention is quite understandably with your daughter, who is in some kind of crazy magical egg thing because some psycho tried to kidnap her or take her out. Tae-ah is in the midst of extreme emotional and physical upheaval, and the court needs to get to know him again. You’re having to balance protecting your family against protecting your court. I am not saying you can’t do it. I’m saying _share the fucking load._ ”  

 

Her lips snapped thin at his cursing, and her excellent complexion paled even further from anger. “You don’t talk to me like that.”

 

“I have since the beginning,” he said as calmly as he could. “I’m not going to change now. There is a reason why I was your general. I’m good at what I do, and I think differently than you do. Yin-yang, remember? I will be damned if I lose one of the only good things in my life just because she’s too stubborn to accept my help.”

 

More anger, but then her expression relaxed a little. “How is your dancing school going?” she asked apropos of nothing.

 

“Fine. I have good help there. The kids will be fine for a few months, as long as I show face occasionally.”

 

Areum nodded. “You protect Taehyung,” she said. “Not me. You will be his bodyguard. He is the future here, Hoseok, not myself. Get that?”

 

It wasn’t what he wanted, but he had learnt to compromise a little in his life, so he nodded. “As long as I’m there at any formal meetings you or he has with what’s left of the Chinese delegation.”

 

She sighed again, but nodded. “Welcome back to the Court of Lights.”


	9. Arc 2 Chapter 25, Seungkwan's POV

Seungkwan lay trembling in the grip of yet another nightmare, shivering and cold even under his thick winter blanket. He knew he had to sleep. Scratch that, he needed it desperately with their debut coming up, but every time he closed his eyes he saw the piecemeal monster his grandmother had been, the sick slurping as Hoshi- _hyung_ accidentally pulled the skin right off her hand. It was what he saw every time that he closed his eyes. When he wasn’t half-asleep he was crying, and he knew it was affecting the bond he had with the team.

 

He had lost count of the times he wished he had never met Park Jimin, and also of the times he castigated himself for thinking that. Jiminie- _hyung_ was one of the warmest, sweetest people he knew, and hating him for what happened would be like hating a fish because you were afraid of water. And then he hated himself for thinking he couldn’t hate, and that’s when things started knotting up in his mind until it felt as if it wanted to explode.

 

He nearly shrieked out loud when a rustle sounded close to him, but the warm hand on his shoulder was familiar and he made space automatically as Hansol slid in behind him, lanky frame warm and socked feet cold. It felt like some sort of panacea as he felt the line of heat behind his back as they spooned, and lifted his head obediently as Hansol slipped an arm in to rest just below the pillow to support his neck. The other arm draped over him, pulling back until Seungkwan was nestled tightly against him.

 

“You don’t have to be afraid alone.” The whisper was soft, only heard because their heads were so close.”

 

Seungkwan sniffled. “I’m not afraid,” he muttered nasally, nose still blocked with tears. “I mean… if you are.”

 

He felt the smile that Hansol pressed against his neck, and it was enough to make his body shudder and start to relax. It felt weird, to be honest. He danced enough with the group that he had learnt how to stretch by now, but the soft gesture targeted ones he didn’t actively think of, like the ones that ran from his shoulders to his neck, or the ones that made his shoulderblades bunch closer together. It felt like a zipper running down him, until he felt boneless and warm in his friend’s embrace.

 

“I saw her too,” Hansol muttered. “And you can laugh at me, but it was the scariest thing I have ever seen.” He twined their fingers together, sighed into the hair at Seungkwan’s nape and settled until they were comfortable.

 

Seungkwan wanted to start crying again, but for vastly different reasons. “Hansollie…”

 

“Shh,” his friend murmured. “Let’s just sleep for now, okay? I want bouncy Seungkwan back tomorrow. I miss him annoying my ass the whole time, it’s like there’s no sun.”

 

Giving in, Seungkwan closed his eyes and thanked every deity he knew for the overgrown puppy that had befriended him. Not everyone was lucky enough to have a Hansol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. This is not going to make much sense at all if you don't know what happened in the main series, sorry! 
>   2. I was in the mood for some soft Verkwan. This is just friendship-based so far, though there are unspoken feelings on both sides. 
> 



	10. Arc 2 Chapter 35, Jungkook's POV

It was _so nice_ just to cut loose for a change. Living with his small family for the past year had been all that he dreamt of, but he rarely got the chance to pull out all the stops in his real body. Like this, with the wind rushing over his scales and supporting the coils of his body, he felt freer than he could remember in the past few months. He had blood on his claws from the furrows he raked down Ao Guang, and he could taste ichor running down his throat from the snapping bites that saw him clinging to the mad dragon’s massive neck. He felt tiny, but he felt alive, so very alive. His blood boiled inside him, vibrating at the same frequency as the Banner that somehow still clung to his back.

 

Somewhere in that first breaching wave he had gotten separated from his heart, and he whipped his head around to look for him. It was to no avail, there was so much dragon all around him he couldn’t see. Getting in a last savage rake, he twisted away and soared into a clear space, raking up Ao Guang’s side before he flitted before his maw, feeling it snap just-just clear of him. The air rang with his laughter, and from the corner of one eye he saw a flash of starlit white. He looked around to Taehyung, grinning fiercely, and in that moment it all went away.

 

The ocean went flat with a great ringing surge of power. The clouds vanished, and time stretched out into an eternal, golden thing. High above him, so high he could almost not see it, a tiny figure bursting with power hung in the deep blue-black where even dragons did not willingly go. He saw the awful look on Jiminie’s face as the beam of power sprung from him, saw the pleading look on his face, and knew it was too late to get away.

 

He forgave his hyung, of course he did, but he would face this like the warrior he was. Changing in mid-air, he took the Banner from his back and held it up into the air just as the beam struck him and he tumbled into Ao Guang’s maw with the Banner held out like a spear.

 

Time stopped. He hung just inside the great mad ancient’s throat, effortlessly suspended. It was a hideous ruin by now.

 

 _Is this your choice?_ The voice was deep, like rolling thunder, washing over him in powerful waves. _Are you not afraid of death?_

_Who are you?_ Try as he might as he twisted back, Jungkook could not see anything in front of him but an endless sky washed out by the sun and the blue pulse of energy from Jiminie-hyung.

 

_Look up. Further, young dragon. All the way up._

The veils of colour and light pulled back, until he saw the face that had spoken to him. The man was massive, but there was the suggestion of stars in his eyes, Polaris crowning his brow like a jewel. Funnily enough, the face didn’t scare him. _No, I am not afraid. This is a good death, isn’t it?_

_The last heroic charge of Jeon Jungkook?_

_Yes, samchon, something like that._

 

_Oh no, bearer of the last of my sister’s power. I’m tired of all my heirs dying on me. But we do need to get rid of that body of yours first…_

The Banner exploded in his hands as the beam impacted it, and the howling filled Jungkook’s world.


	11. Arc 2, Chapter 36: Woozi's POV

Lee Jihoon wasn’t sure what was going on in the dorm.

 

Scratch that.

 

He was very aware of what was going on in the dorm, but lacked the capacity to do anything about it. He had seen a bandmate’s dead grandmother crawl into the window one fine morning. There wasn’t much you could do about that.

 

There also wasn’t very much he could do about the consequences. Seungkwan practically lived in Hansol’s back pocket these days, despite treating him like a disobedient dog. Jeonghan hovered over them both like a hawk, much more serious and much less lazy than ever before. Seungcheol was as bad – he knew the guy saw Seungkwan as his favourite _dongsaeng_ – and didn’t have any problems with babying him.

 

That was that. Of the four people in the room that morning, it was neither Seungkwan nor Hansol he was concerned with, but Soonyoung and himself. Not that he knew if there was a Soonyoung and himself, not when both of them worked their asses off on the pre-debut stuff and the practices. Not when Soonyoung capered around as cheerfully as ever, but a dark light entered his eyes late at night, when it was only the two of them remaining at work, and they sometimes had a snack together.

 

Soonyoung’s injuries had been miraculously healed, but the guy had said there was nothing he could do for the memories, and it was that that was plaguing Jihoon. The memory of the sucking sound as Soonyoung accidentally pulled the dead hand’s skin off, the way they flew across the room, the sickening crunch of the performance leader’s leg shattering like a bag of Western cereal.

 

He couldn’t forget the memory of the vigil all of them had kept whilst Soonyoung had been in that dome, and how lively he was when it broke hours ago, all wounds healed.

 

He stared at the mixing station’s screen and wished he knew what to do. They had been good friends once, before he moved to the vocal team and Soonyoung was made responsible for the brunt of their team’s choreography. He wished he could… he could… he wished he could do something about the dark look in his eyes, and have help with his. He wasn’t touchy, but he wished he could make sure that his leg was straight and perfect again, run his hand up and down the nape of his neck.

 

He wished things were simple again. For a moment he wished that he had never been selected for the Seventeen project, and that he had met Kwon Soonyoung some other way.


	12. Arc 3, Chapter 14: Hansol's POV

Choi Hansol didn’t like prison. He didn’t like it one bit. He had wondered sometimes what it would be like, given that he was a rapper and sometimes the topic arose, but that topic was laid to bed now. He didn’t like it at all, especially not this dank, demented hole on some other fucking planet, or plane. He was _tired_. Something had gone wrong at the wedding, that much he knew, but he had very little memory after that. Somehow he had ended up in a filthy fucking cell under a mountain, with a bunch of sadistic fucks that only ever asked a single question.

 

They were polite about it, as long as he spoke to them. Polite, right until the beatings started. That’s when his mind floated free and he thought of his _hyungs_ and little Chan, of the way Seungkwan fitted into his arms now rather than the other way around, of his parents and his sister and a thousand other things.

 

His head slowly lifted as he heard the door open. His eyes stung from the light they brought with, and he squinted of to the side. The woman that stared at him was tall and cold, clad in a feather dress, without any mercy in her face. She was the worst of the lot by far.

 

“What did you see today?” she asked patiently.

 

He told her, in English, what he thought of her at great length, and he felt pain thrash up his spine. She didn’t need to touch him to incite it, crawling and aching, until his bones wanted to snap but never did somehow.

 

“What did you see today?” she asked again.

 

He saw spots behind his eyes and closed them as he imagined arms around him. Warm, tender, touching him softly as if he was more than just bad nightmares. Strength welled up in him at that thought, washing through his limbs, a deeper magic than any he had ever known. It gave him courage to open his stinging eyes and stare mutely at her.

 

“What did you see today?” The question beat at him, but he retreated behind a stoic, absent mask and merely smiled.

 

That’s when the pain began in earnest and he lost track of time as he screamed and screamed, voice long since gone. Instead, he clung to the memory of being held by Boo Seungkwan, and did not answer her.


	13. Arc 3, Chapter 21, Chan's POV

Of all the people that Chan thought he might get a call from, Yoongi- _hyung_ wasn’t high on his list. He knew him, of course, knew in a vague way that he had taken over some of the company functions, but his mind had already started to draw a divide between him and Bumzu- _hyung_. Given that the call came on the backside of three in the morning, when they had just all piled back into the dorm, he was doubly worried.

 

He scooted into the clothes room – really the second lounge – and answered it. “ _Hyung_?” he said worriedly. “Are you okay?”

 

“Channie?”

 

_Jiminie-hyung._

 

“Oh hey, _hyung_ , I didn’t expect to be hearing from you on this number. Are you, um, okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” his _hyung_ promised, and he could hear the smile through the phone. “But it’s about that, um, friend of yours. We found her.”

 

Chan nearly dropped the phone, worry immediately manifesting in the pit of his stomach. “You have? Is she okay?”

 

“I’m not going to lie, she doesn’t look too good, but she won’t let us close enough to see for sure. Could you maybe talk to her for us, just tell her that we don’t want to harm her?”

 

Chan swallowed. “I want to see her,” he tried to say stoutly. “I mean, I need to be there to tell her that. She’s not gonna believe some story a voice tells her, _hyung_. I need to be there.”

 

“Channie, no…”

 

“No, _hyung_ ,” he said, clutching the phone. “I’m not trying to be nasty or demanding, but I barely got her to talk to me.”

 

“I…” His _hyung_ ’s voice faded as someone else took the phone.

 

“Go get Seungcheol.” That was Yoongi- _hyung_ , sounding implacable.

 

Chan scurried to go and get his leader, who didn’t look too happy. When he finally got his phone back, Seungcheol’s look promised a long talk, but they had little time to speak before Yoongi- _hyung_ literally appeared, grabbed their collars and disappeared again.

 

Whatever Chan had been expecting, it wasn’t what he saw in the kitchen. There were people crowded just inside the entrance, Jiminie- _hyung_ and Namjoon- _hyung_ and even Kookie- _hyung_ , but then a wide strip of space and finally a little form crumpled in on itself on a filthy old towel, almost naked and shaking like a leaf in the wind. He didn’t even think as he shrugged off his sweater and stepped away from the crowd. It didn’t register that she was the first girl he had seen like that – hardly a girl anyway – and that she had more knives in front of her than he had seen on one person at a time.

 

“Be careful, Channie,” his leader urged.

 

Ignoring him, he reached out much like he would to a wild animal, draping the sweater over her before he stepped over the arc of knives and knelt next to her. She was so delirious that she couldn’t sit up straight, but her sickly-looking eyes cleared a little looking at him, and she moved as he slowly coaxed her into the sweater. “It’s okay,” he muttered into her filthily disgusting hair, nose twitching from the river-water smell of it. “We’re here to help, okay? You’re safe.”

 

She opened her mouth, obviously trying to say something, but he wrapped his arms around her, feeling as if life kicked him in the stomach. Suddenly it wasn’t about making himself feel good any longer; it was about the girl in his arms, and the worry that she might be really sick, and a wordless anger at the dead man. “I’m going to invite my _hyung_ over. He won’t hurt you, okay? They’re all nice. I promise. We can have some coffee after this, and you’ll feel better…”

 

Chan held her as Yoongi- _hyung_ carefully stepped closer and she began to struggle, wrapping his arms more tightly around her. “It’s okay. It’s okay…”

 

“Her stomach wound is infected,” Yoongi- _hyung_ muttered as he took a quick look. “The leg seems okay.”

 

“Theo…” the girl choked out. “Theo… Kakao…”

 

Chan frowned at Yoongi- _hyung_. “Kakao?” he muttered. “She wants to talk to a guy called Theo on Kakao?”

 

“No,” Yoongi muttered. “I don’t think that’s it.” He leaned down to look the girl in the eye. “Chocolate?” he asked quietly, but intensely, and bit his lip savagely when she managed to get a nod out. “Channie… were you in the habit of giving her snacks? Some… chocolate perhaps?”

 

Blinking, Chan nodded. “I gave her a chocolate bar the other morning?”

 

“What kind?”

 

“Uh… the ones we’re kind of half-allowed to eat?” He darted a nervous look at Seungcheol- _hyung_ and Jiminie- _hyung_. “Those ones Jiminie- _hyung_ put on the ‘do not consume until emergency’ list. There was one hiding away on a top shelf and I took it for her. Why?”

 

Yoongi straightened to look at Namjoon. “What would get poisoning from artificially sweetened chocolates, waltz through wards and were thought to have disappeared over a century ago?”

 

Namjoon’s mouth fell open. “…you must be kidding?”

 

“I’d give good odds the chocolate was dark, and likely sweetened a bit by xylitol,” Yoongi replied. “With her body mass it might have been enough. If she weighs forty kilos it’s a lot.”

 

“Holy shit,” Namjoon got out. “She’s one of the Lost Babies.”


	14. Arc 3, Chapter 31, Jimin's POV

Jimin hadn’t bothered with a taxi. He picked Sora in his arms, boggling at her lack of weight, and made his way to Jungkook’s old flat in the complex, putting her down as delicately as he could. “Iseul-ssi,” he said to thin air, though the _shisa_ would hear him on the other side of the city if necessary. “I have need of you if you have some time.” As he spoke, he peeled Sora’s eyelids back again, trying not to think of how they healed her barely a month ago.

 

Muji’s mother made her way in through the window barely a minute later, cat-body graceful even at her size. She wandered around to sniff at Sora, promptly sneezed and sat back with a look of disgust.

 

“I know,” Jimin said softly. “Just stay here whilst I undress her and get her in underneath a blanket. Hobi-hyung will be here in a few minutes, he’s just getting someone to stand in for him.”

 

_I will get a sheet and blanket._

 

Hobi had arrived by the time the large _shisa_ floated in the sheet and blanket, and together the three of them set to undressing the girl. Jimin felt awkward doing it; he wasn’t really the healer in the family and didn’t have Jin-hyung’s competence and training. That being said, the girl was the furthest thing from sexy he could think of. Though she was quite tall, likely the same height as he, she weighed almost nothing and she looked like a disaster. He heard Hobi hiss as the beatings she had taken were revealed in thin strips from her abdomen to high on her thighs, front and back. They found a sprained wrist, a fractured ankle and, most worrisome of all, a place on the back of her skull that felt squishy. Her feet were black and blue from ankle to toes.

 

With Iseul’s help he floated her in the air, draping a sheet over her from neck to toes. “Internal injuries,” he noted softly, scribbling everything down on a piece of paper for Jin’s second-checking later on. “Internal bleeding, massive infections. I can’t be sure, but I don’t think she’s eaten in some time. Her pancreas has a lot of damage, and there’s a brain injury too, I’m going to guess she fainted and took a tumble somewhere.” He paused. “Or she was pushed. I can’t tell. I can’t heal all of this.”

 

Hobi looked up at him, eyes aflame. “But…”

 

Jimin frowned. “I just don’t know enough about the internal structures of the brain or the internal organs,” he said. “I don’t want to heal something wrong, Hobi- _hyung_. I can keep her going until we can call the _hyungs_ and they send me some reference works. The only person I trust with a brain is Namjoon- _hyung_. But, it’s clear she can’t go back there. This moved from neglect into actual abuse. I don’t think she’ll survive another week like this.” He paused to gnaw his lip. “ _Hyung_ …”

 

“She’s not going back,” Hobi- _hyung_ interrupted. “Never. I’ll kill that woman first before I let her have Sora again. I’ll stay here, or we can take her to court...”

 

 _The court would be best for her,_ Iseul-ssi added. _There are healers there as well, they can watch her around the clock, and it can be made quieter there than here._

 

“If Areum- _yeosang_ won’t mind…”

 

Hobi shook his head. “She won’t. I’ll speak to her about it.”

 

Jimin pulled a chair closer and rested his hands on Sora’s abdomen. “Alright. In a slow, steady stream, please…”


End file.
